Tales From Seal Beach: Little Bully
by Xazz
Summary: No. Desmond wasn't keeping one of the puppies and that was the end of it. But damnit if it didn't make Altair feel like an asshole. -one shot-


Another commission for RueLi over on Tumblr. She wanted some sort of "the puppy followed me home" scenario. Fucking Assassins and cute adorable animals. /sobs over the cute

If you'd like to commission me you can find all my info here: **tinyurl. com/6ljzxxq**

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Altair always felt bad, and a fair bit of unrequired guilt when he couldn't pick Desmond up from after school and he had to walk home. But Altair had picked their rental for the exact reason that it was within walking distance, only a few blocks actually. That wasn't so bad for an eight year old to walk home alone was it? Fuck he didn't know but it was the second time this week. He walked home with his friends usually though so it made him feel a bit better since while Desmond would trust anyone with the promise of a puppy and/or candy (no matter how many times he told Desmond it was bad) Clay and Shaun both were more world wise. He knew that if one of the two were there he didn't have to worry too much…

Who the fuck was he kidding he was worried, and _badly_. But it was fucking understandable after what had happened just a year ago. Just thinking about it made Altair's gut twist itself into a knot and he stared at the clock, trying to will it to go faster. But if anything it ticked past even slower. Work always went slower when he was worried about his brother.

He was about to just say fuck it and call Malik to get him, since Malik was available today, no classes or work, when his boss came up to him. "You okay Miles?" he asked him.

"Ah, yeah," he said, slightly sheepish.

"You look like you got ants in your pants boy," his boss said, he flushed a little. He really hated being obviously uncomfortable or a burden. Even though he'd felt like that his entire life to his parents; a burden.

"My brother's about to get out of school, I'm just worried about him walking home by himself. It's no big deal," he waved his hand to try and wave it away as a whole.

"Oh right, you take care of your brother don'cha?" he just nodded, it wasn't like it was a secret, he'd brought Desmond to work a few times. The girls _adored_ him, and he was amazingly well behaved for his age, which meant his bosses were okay with him sitting in the back room with his DS or coloring books. "Well shift's over soon and Roger'll be coming in any minute, you can go early," he said.

"Really?" Altair asked.

"Yeah, go. You start looking like you want to die when it comes to that kid," he laughed good naturally.

"Ah, thanks," he said quickly and in record time had emptied his till and the tip jar before ducking out from behind the bar. He had day shift that day, and working a bar on a day shift was boring as all hell and mainly was just wine, beer, and the occasional something warm on the rocks, like scotch or whiskey. He went into the back to change out of his work clothes. The restaurant he worked at was just a hair's width away from a black vest and tie place, but it was still pretty swank and he had to wear a dress shirt. He threw it and his work shoes into his backpack and pulled on a more comfortable t-shirt and his preferred Chucks.

"You leaving early Al?" someone called and he twisted around. It was Roger.

"Ah, yeah, boss said I could go. I have to go pick up my brother from school," he said as the other bartender came up to him, he was in his normal clothes. Well, mostly normal. Roger wore a hoodie over his work clothes, but he was wearing Nikes on his feet.

"Oh that's cool," Roger shrugged. Altair liked Roger. Malik did not, as the other guy had a habit of hitting on him when they were slow. He knew Altair wasn't interested at all, but it was fun and Roger took strange pleasure in making Malik look like he wanted to bust his head open for flirting with him _in front of him_. He always warned Roger, teasingly, that one day he was going to find the other man dead in the back alley because of Malik. That always made him laugh. "Doesn't that good for nothing boyfriend of yours live with you though? Couldn't he get him?" he teased, he didn't dislike Malik.

"I don't know if he's home. Nothing on the schedule, but that probably means he's at the beach."

"Mooch," Roger scoffed as Altair shouldered his bag.

"He's fine," he said and stuck his tongue out at him. "We're working together on Thursday night, so I'll see you then."

"I'll be here," and Roger gave him a sharp, near military perfect, salute. Altair just waved and walked out the back door to the worker parking lot. Before pulling out of the space he shot Malik a text, 'u home?' He waited a moment or so, since Malik would reply instantly usually unless he was working (but he wasn't), or out in the surf. After waiting there was no reply. Well, he wasn't exactly surprised and pulled out of the parking lot.

—

By the time he got to the school the woman who ran the after school program said that Desmond had left already with his friend Clay. Well that was a slight relief. Clay would say no to strangers with promises of candy and puppies. As much as he loved his little brother, and he did, a lot, sometimes he was just _too_ nice and friendly. Normally that would be a good trait. But that also meant he was friendly with potentially dangerous strangers.

He drove home, scanning the sidewalks for his brother and the blonde, but didn't see them. They were probably home by now honestly. When he pulled up to their house the porch light was on, even though it wasn't dark out yet, so someone was home. Now much more at ease Altair grabbed his stuff and headed inside.

"Desmond," he called as he opened the door.

"Altair!" Desmond yelled from the living room and suddenly was running from around the couch. "Come look, come look at what me and Clay found."

"Clay and I," he said automatically even as Desmond grabbed him by the hand and towed him to the couch. "What's the rush Des it isn't like…" he trailed off at what he saw. "Where did you find this?" he suddenly demanded, turning to the two boys sternly.

"We found them," Desmond said.

"You don't just _find_ a box of puppies Desmond," he said firmly.

"No, we really did Mr. Altair," Clay piped in. "They were by some trash cans."

Altair frowned deeply for a moment. On one hand… fuck, puppies, about four of them, he wasn't quite sure the breed but they had crazy, torpedo-shaped heads and short squat little bodies. On the other he wasn't enough of an asshole to tell the boys they should have just left them there. They were puppies for Christ's sake, and definitely didn't look old enough to be away from their mother. He sighed and sat on the couch, bag slumping down next to him.

"Can we keep 'em?" Desmond asked, jumping between his knees, holding his thighs like parallel bars to hoist himself up a little higher.

"Can we— Of course we can't," Altair said and he saw Desmond deflate and wow wasn't he the biggest asshole brother on the face of the earth.

"But Altair," he whined.

"Desmond, dogs are a big responsibility, and we have no idea where they came from, or if they're sick or anything. We can't keep them," Desmond's lip wibbled. Fuck here came the water works. Clay looked just as distraught, but not enough to cry. Probably because he wasn't as sensitive as Desmond. Also a puppy in your lap tended to make it pretty hard to be upset enough to cry. "Tomorrow we're going to take them to the shelter. That's the end of it," he said in his best 'dad' voice, which sort of disgusted him.

"Not even one?" he stuttered.

"No."

At that Desmond turned away from him and with slumped shoulders went back over to the cardboard box and sat down next to Clay. After a second Clay dropped the puppy he was holding into his lap and then picked out the other three one at a time and laid them across both their laps. Desmond looked _miserable_ and Altair felt like an ass. It wasn't like he didn't want a dog. He'd never had a pet growing up, too much moving, and his parents hadn't been home enough for him to even express his desire for a pet. He was sure if he had there would have been any animal he wanted as a present within the month, since really, as distant as his parents were they did feel somewhat guilty about leaving him alone so much when he was young, though they felt it less so with Desmond since Desmond had _him_. Yeah. He was an ass.

He got up from the couch, his backpack in tow and went to his room to get out of his black slacks. He kept reminding himself that no, Desmond couldn't have one. Dogs were a lot of work, and Altair had a lot to do and who would take care of it while he and Desmond were at work or school? They were so small they would need constant care for a while and… no. No. They weren't keeping one. Angrily he dressed and went back outside.

"Mr. Altair," Clay said when he came back to the living room.

"Yeah?" he was trying to distract himself with thoughts of what he'd make for dinner. Something complicated and time consuming. Maybe lasagna.

"I think they're hungry," the blonde was frowning.

"All right. Uh…" he went to the fridge and shuffled some things around before finding some cream, since Malik drank it with his coffee in the morning. Heathen. He put some in a dish and warmed it up, like he used to do for his brother. "Here, tip your finger in the milk and then let them lap it off," he said handing the blonde the dish.

"Okay," he said and turned around to vanish behind the couch.

Altair rubbed his face and he started to pull out things he'd need for dinner. Dinner and dessert because he could not let himself dwell on this whole… puppy thing. It was ziti instead of lasagna but honestly everyone in the house would eat it anyway.

"Clay," he called as he was putting the ziti in the oven, "Are you staying for dinner?"

"I need to call my dad," Clay called back from the other side of the couch.

"Then come do that," and Clay wandered over and he handed the blonde his cellphone, since the house didn't have a land line. The boy leaned against the counter as Altair cleaned up the mess from dinner so he could work on dessert, which was going to be cookies since that would keep him occupied. Clay talked briefly with his father before handing the phone to Altair. "Hello?" he asked.

"Altair, this is Jason," said Mr. Kaczmarek.

"Oh hey Mr. K," he said easily.

"Clay said you invited him to dinner?"

"Yeah, it's no problem," Altair shrugged and glanced at Clay who was grasping the counter tightly, looking at him from over the edge, so just the top of his head was showing.

"When should I come pick him up?" Mr. Kaczmarek asked.

"Uh," Altair glanced at the clock, "I'd say like eight, if that's okay with you."

"Yeah, that's fine. I'll see you then," and they said goodbye.

"Your dad said you could stay," Altair told him, Clay grinned broadly and scampered back to the other side of the couch. He was throwing butter and sugar into the standing mixer when his phone rang again. "Yooooo," he said into the receiver.

"Hey babe," Malik said on the other end as he started the mixer. "What are you making? That sounds like that big mixer."

"Cookies."

"Oh fuck yes. Cookies!" Malik cried enthusiastically. "What kind?"

Altair rolled his eyes, "You'll see when you get home. It's lasagna for dinner."

"Yum," and he heard the thump of what was obviously his surf board being thrown into the back of his car. "I saw your text, you still need me?"

Altair thought a second, "Stop a Petco or something and by puppy formula."

There was a long pause from the other end. "Did we get a dog and I'm just the last one to know?" he asked.

"No. There is no dog," and he shot a look at the couch where Desmond and Clay were peered over the top of the couch at him. "But squirts squared found a literal box of puppies on the side of the road when they walked home from school and it's too late to take them to the shelter."

"That's cute."

"Malik," he growled.

"What? I just said it was cute. Kids and puppies are cute; sue me."

"Just… stop at the pet store. Okay?"

"Yeah, sure thing. I'm guessing we aren't keeping them?"

"No," he said firmly, "We _aren't_ keeping them," and when he spoke he was looking right at Clay and Desmond. They both ducked back down from their vantage point.

"Okay, I'll be home in a little bit. Make sure there's something sweet for me when I get there."

"The cookies won't be ready by… pervert."

"Slut," Malik replied endearingly.

"See you in a bit," and they hung up and Altair could go back to the cookies since the butter and sugar had been nice and whipped up. From the living room he could hear whimpering and other puppy noises and he just pretended that he couldn't hear them.

The ziti was almost done when Malik came home. "Did you know buying puppy formula is like buying baby food. Why are there so many da—ng choices," he swallowed the damn he'd been about to say.

"Only when you don't know what you're looking for," Altair said and Malik leaned over the counter for a kiss.

"Ewwwww," they heard Clay call from the couch.

"Can it squirt," Malik called back. "Dinner ready yet? I'm starving."

"Just about. Go shower," and he shoved Malik towards their room. While Malik was washing off Altair actually made up some of the puppy formula and found an eye dropper for administering it. He pulled the ziti out and put in the first batch of cookies before walking back over to the other side of the couch and sat down next to the box. Two of the puppies were in the box, but Clay and Des had the two others.

He picked one of the puppies in the box up and put it in his lap and pulled some of the formula into the eye dropper. "Altair," Desmond said, "How come you know all this stuff about taking care of puppies?"

"Well," Altair said as the puppy lapped up the formula. It's eyes were open at least, but it was still way too young to be away from it's mother. "All babies are sort of the same, they want food, warmth, and sleep, even puppies. I figure that if it worked on you when you were a baby it'd work on them too," he gave his brother a grin who beamed back at him. He fed the first puppy a few droppers full of the formula before moving onto the next one and then the two in the boys' laps.

"Can we eat now?" Malik asked and the three turned to where he was hanging off the back of the couch, arms dangling. "I am seriously starving."

Altair chuckled, "Yeah, we can eat now," and he put the puppy in the box before standing. "You two go wash your hands," he ordered the two boys who got to their feet and left.

"They're really cute," Malik said.

"No," Altair said back, making a face.

"What? They're cute," Malik said defensively.

"Go get a dry towel," Altair told him and as the boys came back from the bathroom Malik returned with the towel and Altair put it in the box with the puppies. "Okay," he said, "Lets eat."

Yeah!" Malik said enthusiastically and jumped into the kitchen to grab dishes and silverware out. Altair washed his hands, pulled out the cookies and then took himself and the pan of ziti to the table where the others were waiting. "I could eat the entire thing," Malik said.

"Well you won't. You'll get fat."

"Please," Malik said, making a fart noise with his mouth and helped himself to a healthy helping of the pasta dish.

—

He probably should have been asleep. Really. It was late. Not _really_ _late_, but it was late enough and he had classes tomorrow. But instead he sighed and rolled over, unable to find a comfortable position in bed.

"Go to sleep Altair," Malik grumbled, more then half asleep.

"I can't," Altair said quietly.

"Just close your eyes and go to sleep. You're wiggling," and he shifted a little. Altair pressed up against him and after a few second Malik just wrapped his arms around him. "What is it?" he sounded a bit more awake now, seeing that Altair really wasn't going to sleep.

"Am I a bad big brother for not letting Desmond keep one of those puppies?" he asked.

"This is what's keeping you up?" Malik muttered, "At least be old about it and be worrying about bills or something."

"Seriously," Altair said, "you saw that Mr. K was going to adopt one for Clay when we took them to the pound. Like I didn't already feel awful," he pressed his face firmly into Malik's chest miserably.

"You have the weirdest guilty conscious," Malik said with a yawn. "If you're that worked up about it just let him keep one."

"But they're too little," Altair said.

"The ASPCA will take care of them till they're old enough to be adopted," Malik said lowly, "They did when he brought them a feral and her litter. I bet they'd keep a hold of whatever puppy you wanted if you brought them in." Altair didn't say anything, "You asleep babe?" Malik asked.

"No," he sighed.

"Just let him have one. Honestly, worse pet you could have then a bull terrier."

"That's what they're called?" he looked up at Malik's face, which was hard to see in the darkness.

"Yeah. Shark-head dogs, bull terriers," he shrugged a little. Altair bit his lower lip and Malik, who was always way too good at reading his thoughts, tipped his chin up. "You are not a bad brother if you don't let him have one," he said firmly. "You're a responsible adult who has to deal with a lot of shit. If you say he can have one, great, if not, there's nothing wrong with that."

"Yeah," and really he just needed someone tell him that, since he had been feeling like a pretty terrible brother and guardian. He just wanted to give Desmond he'd never been able to have. A childhood, a permanent home, friends he didn't have to say goodbye to after less then a year, someone who was home when he came home from school and could help him with school work, someone who would make him lunch to take to school and usually would whip up dinner as well. He'd never had those things. This was another one of those things he'd never had, a pet. "Maybe," he said after several moments.

"Great," Malik said and then yawned, "Now go to sleep, babe. You can deal with this puppy business in the morning," and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips. Altair snuggled against him and closed his eyes, making himself go to sleep.

—

Desmond could just _not_ sit still to save his life. He was glad when they finally got home and Desmond was out of his seat in record time and bounding over to the passenger side door. "Woah there squirt," Altair said, putting his hand on the car carrier as Desmond went to grab it. Desmond just smiled at him. "I'll get it, you go inside and get her collar, okay?" Desmond was gone before he could blink.

Chuckling to himself Altair picked up the carrier and got out of the car, closing the door with his hip. The door opened again and Malik had his hand on Desmond's shoulder so he didn't run out of the house again. But the boy looked like he was about to vibrate strait out of his skin, his face split completely in two.

He set the carrier down on the floor and Desmond sank down in front of it and opened the steel door. The puppy had a mostly black top coat, and a white underbelly with brown between the two and brown socks, a white triangle splitting her face. She was going to be a beautiful dog, even if right now she was a bit of a wobbly puppy. After a moment's hesitation she left the carrier and went towards Desmond. They'd visited her often at the pound while they took care of her for a few weeks and she recognized Desmond and eagerly waddled up to him, her tail rocking back and forth on her butt. He pet her and put the collar around her neck.

She didn't like that one bit and tried to shake it off. But that only lasted a few moments because now there were so many new things to _smell_ and it was like she forgot Desmond or the collar were even there and waddled off to explore. Desmond scrambled to his feet and followed after her.

"See, not so bad," Malik said, nudging him. "Hey Des, what'you going to call her?" he called after the boy who was down the hall.

"I don't know yet," Desmond said.

"You had like four weeks to think about it," Altair groaned.

"Hey, having a puppy at home is way different from visiting it at the pound," Malik said.

"I guess."

"It'll be fine," Malik said and kissed him on the cheek. "Everyone's happy and nothings wrong. Just smile and be happy your brother's happy," he said and gently nuzzled him. Altair couldn't keep being even slightly grumpy and turned to press his forehead against Malik's. The other man kissed him on the tip of his nose. "See. Everything's great," he smiled.

"Altair," Desmond suddenly called, "she made a piddle!"

"Yeah," Altair agreed with a groan, "just great," and he went to find some paper towels.

-fin-

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Also if you're wondering, Desmond's bull terrier looks just like this: **tinyurl. com/868gsyn**


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